“I guess that makes sense. How long have you had the charity?”
“I’ve had the charity for five years, but this is the third year for the fundraiser event. It took me a while to have everything together enough for the gala. When I first started, I had almost everything invested in our new company.”
“That sounds exciting.”
“It was definitely a busy year.” I drained the rest of my beer, setting it on the counter between my hands. I spun the glass in circles, the scraping sound loud in the quiet kitchen. “Getting our company ready to move into the offices was why I didn’t go on vacation with my family that summer.”
She looked up to meet my eyes. Hers were wide and filled with questions, but she stayed silent, letting me talk if I wanted. I didn’t usually want to talk about it. I’d gone to family therapy with Hanna, but otherwise, I didn’t speak about it. But something about tonight had me wanting to talk to her. Explain to her what I’d lost—why I pushed her away so hard. Once you lose someone you love more than yourself—when you feel that pain—you do everything you can to not feel it again, including not letting anyone close.
“We’d had the family vacation planned for months but Ian and I had opportunities too good to pass up. Mom was pissed, but I figured she’d get over it because I’d be there for the others. Hanna always tells me it wouldn’t have mattered if I was there or not, but I had to believe I could have kept them from going out that night or gone with them.”
“No seventeen-year-old girl wants to go out with their older brother, Erik.”
I breathed a laugh. “Hanna says Sofia would have found a way to get past me. Which is true. She was the sneaky one, always attacking each adventure like it held nothing but fun.”
“Where’d they go?” she whispered.
“Sofia somehow got them in at an eighteen and older club. They knew the rules about going out. They knew how to protect themselves, but they were taken anyway.” Her soft hand covered mine where it was fisted on the counter. “A woman lured them to the back and a van was waiting. My parents called me the next morning and I flew down. I was too late. The cops looked into it, but said missing girls were common from that area.” I swallowed hard past the anger building in my throat. “I became obsessed,” I growled. “I researched every single thing I could. I asked about old cases, how they hunted the traffickers, anything I could get my hands on. I’d always been fluent with the computer but had only dabbled on the dark web just to prove I could. But once I found it was a way to track sales, I buried myself in it. It took me two months to narrow down who’d most likely taken them. I spent two months after that tracking them, always missing the group, sometimes by days.”
I stopped to take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heartbeat, focusing on her cool hand soothing mine. “Four months,” I choked out. “It took me four months to find them in some hovel in Utah. Over the months, I’d worked with a security company, knowing I couldn’t do it alone. They helped me raid the place.” My eyes burned, remembering walking in the dank, dark, concrete building. It was filled with office dividers, a string and curtain partitioning off the rooms. “I stormed through the rooms, knowing they had to be there and that no matter what they’d been through it wouldn’t matter because I’d bring them home.”
Alexandra sniffed and I looked up from under my lashes to find silvery tracks down her cheeks. Hating my weakness, but unable to stop it, matching tears fell from my eyes and I stared down at the counter. I cleared my throat and wiped the wetness away, getting myself under control.
“When I finally found them, I was too late.”
“Erik…?” Hanna stared up at me with glassy eyes, none of the life shining in them. She laid stretched out next to another girl on the double bed, her pink hair flat against the filthy pillow. I ran to her side, hovering my hands over her, not knowing where to touch, but desperate to assure myself she was real. She was so thin, wearing only a stained dress shirt.
“Hanna …. Hanna,” I said her name over and over. It was her. I’d found her.
“Erik. Oh God. Erik,” she cried. Instead of launching herself into my arms, she curled to her side next to the still form I could only hope was Sofia, but the dark hair covered her face. “It’s too late. It’s too late,” Hanna muttered.
“No. Hanna. I’m here. It’s not too late.” I gently brushed her hair back from her forehead, but she jerked away, clutching Sofia’s too pale arm. “Sofia. Wake up. I’m here.” I gently brushed Sofia’s hair back, coming face to face with blank open eyes. “No.”